


One Good Thing About Christmas

by nihilBliss



Category: DR. SEUSS - Works, How the Grinch Stole Christmas (2000), How the Grinch Stole Christmas! - Dr. Seuss, The Grinch (2018)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Boys Kissing, Carrying, Christmas Crack, Christmas Fluff, Crack, Crack Crossover, Crossover, Fellatio, Fluff and Crack, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Goofy - Freeform, Humor, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Was Drunk When I Wrote This, Joke Gone Too Far, Jokes, Kissing, M/M, Meme, Memes, Meta, Metafiction, Mistletoe, Multiple Orgasms, My First Work in This Fandom, Nonsense, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pretentious, Ridiculous, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Rule 34, Selfcest, Sexual Humor, Shameless Smut, Silly, Smutty, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tumblr Memes, What Have I Done, What Was I Thinking?, Yaoi, crack smut, dumb, horny on main, shitpost, this is my life these are my choices, unprotected sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-23 22:48:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17089217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nihilBliss/pseuds/nihilBliss
Summary: If there's one good thing about Christmas, it's Mistletoe. If there's one good thing about clones, it's the sex. If there's one good thing about Hollywood's risk-phobic sequel/remake cycle, it's fandoms creating horny art of multiple iterations of the same character. And if there's one good thing about friends, it's that they'll inspire you to take a joke 2,000 words beyond any reasonable stopping point.This is a blatant shitpost that starts with Plato and ends with two grinches having gay sex. If you aren't sold yet, it ain't for you.





	One Good Thing About Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> ÐE GODS AT PLAY

This story takes place in a cave on a high and snowy mountain, some four thousand vertical feet above a little valley which plays home to a town most notable for its all-consuming love of Christmas. The principle players are two furry green curmudgeons who call that cave home. One claims to be more of a bear and the other a twink, though in truth, they’re both very much shaped like pears.

Are they two people, or are they two iterations of one person? Well, that’s a tricky question with no simple answer. To drastically oversimplify, they’re separate and unique projections of a single Platonic concept, dancing shadows on the wall of, well, a cave. Neither can be called the thing itself, but each presents a different aspect thereof and, in their differences, reveal more about the nature of the ideal and more yet the nature of the forces that have brought these particular projections into being.

We’ll call them James and Benny. It’ll be easier that way.

* * *

 "The music’s already fucking starting,” cursed Benny, the slender one. He glared out the door of the cave down the snow-choked mountainside. It was quiet, then, but he knew its din would echo up louder and louder until unspeakable hours of the morning provided an all-too-brief respite before a full day of cheerful Christmas cacophony. “Disgusting.”

“You’re letting the heat out,” said James, coarse in his tone as he sulked on a couch.

“They’re simply revolting,” said Benny. “This absurd Christmas spirit’s enough to turn one’s stomach.”

“The little bastards are shitty all year long,” James interjected, curt. “Their whole society’s like a pack of dogs, just waiting to jump on you for coloring outside the lines.”

“Mixing metaphors, are we?”

“Sue me,” James snapped. “I’m cold and you’re boring.”

Benny rolled his eyes, exaggerating enough to be unmissable. But the chill came all the same, unperturbed by his sass. He closed the door with a resigned sigh and lumbered into the front room, preparing a new round of hysterics.

“But it’s just so utterly, thoroughly miserable! They turn into these greedy little wretches who can’t help but inflict their bloody singing on everyone,” he said, gesticulating. “Their damned Christmas season is simply the worst thing out there.”

James watched as Benny paced around the coffee table, working himself up. He offered a noncommittal grunt. Benny perked up at the noise and turned.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” he asked, head cocked.

James shrugged his shoulders.

“You can’t actually… Do you not loathe this wretched season?”

“It’s not all bad,” James mumbled, staring at a captivating outcropping on the cave wall. He slipped a hand behind his back and began rooting around in the couch.

“Not all bad?” Benny asked, with all the disgust of one who’s just smelled a particularly rancid who hash fart. “What the hell do you mean by that?”

James’ fingers pinched a clump of plant matter, which he produced with a mischievous smile. He glanced at it meaningfully before wagging his eyebrows.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” Benny said. “Mistletoe?”

James shrugged, feigning innocence.

“Are you saying you don’t have a kiss for dad-dee?” he mocked. Disgusted, Benny rolled his eyes and turned to leave. But that would not do. James stood, whipped past Benny, and struck a ballet pose, mistletoe dangling above his face, nose in the air, thighs flexed. It was that which gave Benny pause. There, James’ fur was thinner, and Benny could see just how toned his legs were. He may have gawked a little. Maybe.

“See something you like?” James said, voguing harder.

“Please, you’re revolting.”

“Oh, is that a ‘no thank you?’”

Benny started to turn, but he hesitated, mind caught in a figure-four leg-lock by James’ powerful gams.

“I didn’t say that,” he said under his breath. Not far enough under; James’ expression curled into an evil grin as he slunk up behind Benny and dangled the mistletoe over the two of them, expression caught in a tug-of-war between smug and sultry. Benny’s lips slowly curled into a smile, despite his efforts to the contrary. It was, he knew, hopeless to resist when something he wanted was presented to him as though gift-wrapped. He turned, chest to chest with James. His lips parted. It was a sudden rush of blood to the head, a moment of hysteria, nothing more.

James kissed as he did everything else: heavy-handed and theatrical. Benny matched his fervor at first, then sank into it like a fever, putty in James’ hands. James wrapped a strong hand around the back of Benny’s head, holding him close, as Benny gripped James’ chest fur. They stayed like that for one, then two, then a few more minutes. When James felt good and done, he let Benny go with a smile.

“Can’t resist a little beefcake, huh,” he purred. Benny flushed under his fur. Smugness, he reprimanded himself, should not be arousing.

“You’re hardly beefcake,” said Benny, protesting ever so slightly too much.

“I’m not?” lamented James through a broadening smirk. “Oh, woe is me! I’m so disappointed that I don’t meet the little twink’s standards. My poor little grinchy heart is about to break.”

Benny rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry your figure’s making you insecure,” he said, deadpan. “Maybe it’s all that lovely Christmas candy and roast beast you seem to enjoy.”

“Oh, outta shape, am I?” asked James. Benny smirked, ready to bask in victory. Then, he felt his feet leave the floor. It took a moment for Benny to register that James had heaved Benny over his shoulder like a sack of stolen ornaments. A chill raced up and down Benny’s spine as he half-protested James’ powerful grasp. The world was a blur of endorphins; he didn’t immediately recognize where he was being taken.

Benny’s ass hit wood, and he snapped back to reality. They were in the bedroom, and he’d been set atop a chest of drawers. James pinned him against the wall with his considerable chest and kissed him ferociously. Benny reciprocated, throwing his arms around James and bringing him closer. His fingers traced the cliffs and coastlines of James’ powerful back; his eyes glazed over.

But all too soon, James pulled away.

“So? Am I beefcake?”

“God, just don’t stop touching me,” Benny whispered.

James slid his tongue across his lower lip, still smiling. He ran a long nail through the fur of Benny’s chest, eliciting a gasp. Benny’s cock slipped free of its sheath and began to stiffen. He was easy, he knew, but that hardly mattered; he was getting what he wanted.

James pushed Benny against the wall with a touch, then kissed his way down Benny’s chest. They both knew the destination and relished the trip. James placed one last kiss on Benny’s sheath before running his tongue up the length of his cock, drawing a gasping shudder. The tongue had a texture to it, like a cat’s but softer, and it drove Benny wild.

“Please, fuck, don’t stop,” he said. James said nothing. He slipped his lips around Benny’s member and slid it deeper into his mouth. Fuck, he was good. Warm, tight… too perfect.

“I’m not going to last,” Benny said, breathy. James showed no signs of slowing; if such a thing were possible, he’d suck Benny’s soul out along with his cum. Soon, Benny squealed and shuddered, holding James’ shoulders tight as he came. Again and again he squeaked as his body pulsed, until he went limp against the wall, spent. James rose and locked eyes with Benny before swallowing, then licked his lips.

“I guessed right,” James said. “You just wanted attention.”

Benny laughed weekly as the post-climax haze faded.

“I’m certainly not complaining,” Benny said, focus well shifted. His eyes traced James’ body, dancing over his furry muchness. Of course, he wasn’t all furry. “Shall I return the favor?”

James looked down to his own tumescent need, which pointed like a pink pantooka. A little help, he thought, would be much appreciated. He grinned evilly and placed himself between Benny’s legs, furry fingers encircling Benny’s thighs before pushing knees to wall.

“Hold these for me, will ya?” he asked. Benny complied; he felt exposed, and it set his heart pounding and yearning. James slid the top drawer open and, lube in hand, readied his finger and his partner’s hole.

Benny gasped as one digit, then another slipped inside of him. James made no pretense of patience and went straight for Benny’s prostate, stroking and poking around to see how many little moans and vocalizations he could procure. All the while, his eyes remained locked with Benny’s, a predatory gaze to match his grin.

“You’ve no idea how bad I want your cock right now,” Benny managed, voice high and thin between groans. James chuckled, just a little, and pulled his fingers out.

“I can make that happen,” he snarled, lubing his erection. “You ready?”

Benny nodded, excited.

“ **SMOKIN’!** ” exclaimed James.

“What the fu-AHHHNN!”

James slammed his hips against Benny’s ass and hammered away, driving the breath from Benny’s lungs. Benny tried again and again to form words, but all he could manage were whines and groans in pitches that swirled higher with every thrust.

“You’re a good falsetto, but you’re a better fuck,” James managed. Seeing Benny wracked with pleasure, squirming, trapped and loving it, set his blood pounding yet harder. That snide little expression didn’t suit him so well as this earnest, base pleasure.

How long had they been there, Benny wondered as sensation drained from his feet and the hard wood of the dresser dug into his lower back. Did James enter him only a moment ago, or had it been a lifetime? Was even there a world outside of these lovely impacts that split him wide and set him ablaze so? Every thrust shot lightning through his core. Would that this fullness, this heat, this lizard-brain good-little-slut energy were the whole of his existence, he would endure any holiday with a smile.

“F-fuck, I’m close,” Benny managed. James nodded and wrapped a furry hand around Benny’s cock, jerking furiously, just out of time with his thrusts.

“Here it comes!” James exclaimed as climax overtook him. He slammed his hips tight against Benny’s hole and grunted as he spent himself. Benny pulled him in tight, squealing as James’s furious stroking drove him over the edge. He gripped James’s back as if letting go would doom him to drown beneath these waves of pleasure.

As Benny’s whimpers subsided, James stepped away, leaving Benny stretched and aching with bliss. Benny slipped to the floor, bracing against the dresser. His legs shook like holiday jelly. He put a hand to his chest as he regained his composure. Something felt… sticky?

Benny looked down at his furry stomach and saw streaks of cum — his — clinging and now matted into his fur. Rage flared in him, and he glared at James.

“You did that on purpose!” he shouted. James made a nominal effort to stifle his laughter. “Have you any idea how long it takes to get that out of fur? I’ll be in the bathroom for hours thanks to you, you inconsiderate arse!”

James said nothing, instead sauntering away with a spring in his hips. He hummed a little melody, one Benny knew all too well from how it echoed up from the valley every Christmas. Benny stared icicles into the back of James’s head, glancing only occasionally downward, totally not distracted by toned ass.

“Stupid sexy bastard,” he grumbled as he made for the shower.

**Author's Note:**

> Frankly, I don't even like The Grinch.


End file.
